


Communication is Important (Time for a Wedding!)

by artemyspyke



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Rollercoaster, Fluff, M/M, Nyota and Winona take no shit, Sarek is an awkward father-in-law, Wedding Fluff, Weddings, possible overdrama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 15:50:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/artemyspyke/pseuds/artemyspyke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Spock had never looked cuter than he did just then with a face full of cake. Even though he sputtered and dug it out of his eyes immediately, he didn't hesitate at all to grab the back of Jim’s head and enthusiastically return the gesture. They stood there, covered in it, to an audience of three hundred hysterically laughing and applauding people, and Jim felt on top of the world." </p>
<p>They say that getting married is the seventh most stressful thing that a person can do. Jim and Spock put that to the test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My friend Lauren](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+friend+Lauren).



> My friend prompted me with the idea of Jim and Spock getting married with as many emotional hills and valley that I could fit into a relatively short fic. I didn't originally want to split it into chapters, because the parts are so small, but I kind of think it might space the story out better that way. I hope you enjoy it!

Jim arrived at the church at what was probably a ridiculously early time, but he didn’t care, he was too excited. In two hours he was going to marry his best friend, his soulmate, his t’hy’la-- and what could make a person happier than that? He wanted to make sure everything was going to be perfect.

The terran church they’d chosen was just outside Toronto; standing huge and white on a beautiful piece of land with exquisitely well-kept grounds. The ceremony was expecting a large number of people, which would be a hassle to transport in all honesty, and so the reception was set out behind the church near an antique gazebo and pond with a local swan.

When Jim stepped out of the car, he let his eyes linger over every part of it, committing the site to memory as vividly as he could before it was flush with excited, congratulatory party-goers. His  tuxedo was laid out in the back of the hovercar surrounded by a synth-plastic cover at Nyota’s insistence-- you can’t just haul an open tux around, Jim, you’d ruin it! Still sporting a t-shirt and jeans, because no way was he going to clean up well enough for this on his own, Jim gingerly lifted the white-cased tux from the back and began his walk to the front door.

“Jim!” cried an accented voice. He had no hope of seeing who it was behind his armful of dress clothes.

“Do you need help with that?” she continued. He considered declining until his foot hit a larger piece of gravel and almost toppled him.

“Actually,” he decided, “if you are who I think you are, you’re going to be better with this than I am.” A pair of slim arms encased the tuxedo wrapping and pulled it away from Jim, revealing a blond bob and blue eyes.

“Carol!” he greeted. She grinned, before the billowing synth-plastic concealed her face as well.

“I’ll take this inside,” she continued, muffled. “Get your shoes and accessories and things. Meet us in the dressing room.” Then she turned and re-entered the church, looking decidedly more capable than Jim probably had.

“I don’t have accessories,” he grumbled. There were however some extras in a bag near where the tux had been, so he fished them out of the backseat, and slams the car door.

Inside the church was even more breathtaking than outside. It was long, nearly a cathedral if you were being dramatic about it, with rows of dark wood pews, a lush carpeted aisle, and stain glass windows a mile high. Jim could get lost in all the colors of the place. The dressing room he was looking for was to the left, which he could tell, because there was light and a lot of suspicious sound coming from down the stairs.

“Are you already partying? No partying until after I’m married!” he declared, descending to the lower level. There were more people than he expected to find. “What the hell are you all doing here? You don’t have to come until like half an hour before this thing starts.” At the center of the room, seated around folding chairs, was most of the senior Enterprise crew, save for Pavel and Christine. Both Nyota and Carol had dolled their faces up, and the former’s hair was pulled into an intricate bun. Scotty had his undershirt and a tie on, but jeans underneath. It was such a surreal moment that Jim had to laugh.

“And I thought _I_ was early.”

Carol had hung his tuxedo up from a hook on the bathroom door frame. The bag was gone, leaving only the suit itself, black and expensive, and something Jim would probably never wear again.

“I can’t believe you bought it, instead of just renting one,” Nyota said, running one finger appreciatively along the arm of the suit. Jim was affronted.

“I’m not gonna marry Spock in something another guy _probably_ scratched his butt in. C’mon, ladies.” That got him a laugh, even though he was being serious. Carol  took his shoulder and directed him to the open bathroom.

“At least you showered this morning,” she noted, pulling a strand of his blond hair. He winced.

“Of course, I’m not gonna be greasy on my wedding day, either. You all think so low of me.” He grinned.

“Closest thing I’ve seen t’ ya in a monkey suit is yer dress uniform! This’ll be a new one,” Scotty exclaimed. Jim laughed. Then something odd hit him.

“I haven’t actually been in a tux since... well, since my mom married Frank,” he murmured, casting another glance at the suit on the hook. Then he grinned again. “And I spilled cider on that one.” Breaking the somber moment, Nyota pushed on Jim’s shoulders until he sat down in the nearest swivel chair, which she promptly pushed towards the bathroom mirror.

“We’ve only got an hour and a half to get ourselves and you ready, so sit still and don’t mess anything up, okay?” she asked. The firm words were at odds with her sunny smile. Jim just blinked comically, and sat back in the chair. They got to work instantly.

Jim didn’t even know that the chair could lean back until Nyota suddenly pressed a button on the leg with her toe, and the entire seat cranked downwards several notches. He suppressed a yelp, which he would later deny. Then Nyota placed a warm cloth over his eyes.

“What’s that for?”

“So you’ll stop looking tired.”

“I look tired?” he gawped. Someone patted his cheek.

“It’s your wedding week, you’re allowed to look tired.”

After that he felt the draw of a comb through his hair. He was pretty sure there were snipping sounds, which he did not authorize, but considering he trusted Nyota with speaking to potentially deadly aliens and Carol with weapons of mass destruction, at least one of them could probably give him a decent haircut. Time passed in an odd way while he sat in that chair. Someone efficiently shaved his jaw, while the other continued to trim and style his hair. He was almost sleepy by the time Nyota lifted the cloth back off his eyes, revealing the harsh light of the bathroom. He blinked rapidly.

“Well,” Carol invited, “tell us what you think.” Nyota straightened the chair again, propelling Jim upwards and directly into the line of sight of his own reflection. To say he was impressed was... an understatement.

_I really did look tired_ , he realized, seeing the difference now. His eyes were wider and bluer, his jaw no longer shadowed with hobo-stubble, and his hair had... apparently been pretty bad before, because the person in the mirror finally looked respectable.

“Hey!” called Hikaru from the other room. “Show us! Or did you accidentally slit his throat, Nyota?”

“Shut up; he’s GQ-ready!” she shouted back, shoving Jim out the bathroom door. He stumbled a little, but righted himself to a wolf-whistle from Bones, and a smattering of claps from the others. Both Pavel and Christine had showed up at some point during his time in the chair, and he got approving nods from both of them.

“Much better.”

“Less homeless.”

“Hey!” Jim barked. Everybody laughed. It was true though, he figured. He wanted to run a hand through his hair, but didn’t for fear of messing up Carol’s art. Maybe later. “What time is it?” he asked.

Bones looked at his watch. “About forty-five minutes until people start showing up.”

“Forty-five?” Jim repeated, feeling a hot jolt of nerves. He blinked rapidly. “Where’s Spock?”

Carol came up behind him. “There’s another dressing room on the other side of the church. Spock will get ready there-- in fact he’s probably already waiting, since he’s excessively early for everything-- but we figured he wouldn’t need as much time to get ready as you.”

Jim paused. “I can’t tell if that was an insult, or--”

“Shut it. Your fiance is hot, get over it. Now, put on your suit. If you can’t manage it, have one of your frat boys help you. Us ladies are going to go figure out where Spock is.” Nyota lifted her dress off of it’s own hook gingerly, followed by Carol and Christine, and they all three climbed the stairs back out of the dressing room. There was silence for a moment.

“So... do you really need help putting on suit?” Pavel asked, fully decked out in his own. Jim narrowed his eyes.

“No I don’t, you little punk. Give me like five minutes. And get yours on too-- all of you! Jesus...” He grabbed his tuxedo off its hook, closing the bathroom door in the process, and set about figuring which piece went on first. When he was done, he spun a couple times in front of the mirror. Good enough.

“Laugh if you have to, but I think I did it right,” he said, walking back out. His friends were all in their tuxes too, laughing and joking, but they stopped when Jim walked out. He was silent, expectant. No jokes came. No one spoke.

“Did I totally mess it up?” he cringed.

“No, Jim, you just look... good,” Bones said, smiling genuinely. He stepped forward and gave Jim the nicest hug one could give when one needed their suit to remain unwrinkled. Jim swallowed.

“Really?”

Nods all around. “Yes, Captain, very good. Like man,” Pavel assured with an enthusiastic nod. Jim rolled his eyes, but clapped the kid on the shoulder.

“Thanks, guys. You’re not too terrible looking yourselves. I picked good groomsmen.”

“Actually I think we’re Spock’s groomsmen. You get bridesmaids, Jimmy,” Bones stated. Jim blanched.

“ _What?_ No I-- no, shut up!”

His friends dissolved into laughter, like there was some continued joke going on, and Jim figured that was what his entrance had interrupted. “Well, once again, Jim Kirk gets all the ladies. Isn’t that right?” he countered. Silence again.

“He kind of has a point,” Hikaru said, turning to Bones. The doctor smacked the pilot on the back of the head.

Now it was Jim’s turn to laugh.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter, and like I said, they're going to vary in length!

Spock heard footsteps coming down the dressing room stairs, and finished adjusting his tie. When he turned, it was to see Nyota, Christine, and Carol descending the steps with their dresses in their arms.

“Hey, handsome,” Christine greeted. The others giggled. Spock dropped his hands from his tie and took a step forward.

“Ladies,” he replied. “I am suitably prepared for the ceremony; I require no assistance.”

“No kidding,” Nyota said. She set her dress down and circled him once. “Where’d you learn to wear a suit like that?”

He hesitated. “My mother insisted I learn before I came to Earth. She assumed it would be of some use in the future.”

Carol winked, “And she was right about that. You should see Jim. No one’s going to be able to tear their eyes off of you two.”

Christine pulled a band out of her hair, which fell in a blond mass around her face. “We’re going to need to hurry if we’re to be ready by the time this thing starts. Spock is fine, girls, like we knew he would be.” She started on her way to the bathroom.

“We’ll see you in a little bit, Spock,” Uhura said, following both ladies. “If you need anything, just knock,” and she disappeared inside. He allowed himself a heavy exhale, and then took a seat in one of the chairs by the window. It looked out over the grounds. In the distance was the gazebo, painted white and surrounded by pale roses. There was a small table at the center where a cake would go, and out of his line of sight were tables prepared to be lined up. It was so traditionally terran that it made something twist in his stomach. He exhaled again.

He hadn’t lied earlier when he’d mentioned his mother’s enthusiasm years ago. The week before he left for Starfleet academy was a week where she hadn’t slept at all. For all her energy, he barely saw her, flitting about the house the way that she did. She baked, and picked out clothes, found books he should read, customs he should learn, and anything else that would make his time on Earth easier. He’d reminded her that he had been to Earth before, with her in fact, but she had tutted and said that that didn’t count because it was just a vacation. Nothing compared to real Earth culture.

So he’d relented, and let her explain the finer points of formal events, down to how to tie a tie. He never thought that it would be useful, let alone in a situation like his current one. At least he thought that... that she would be here to help him through it. Or just a video call away.

His breath quickened; the lump in his throat refusing to be swallowed. His tie suddenly seemed far too tight. No one was around. No one could see him press a hand to his forehead and exhale shakily for a third time. Nobody... _nobody_ \--

He stood up fast enough to knock the flimsy chair over. The space between him and the back door was closed in two harsh strides, and then he was eating up the ground in an attempt to just get away somehow. There was nowhere to go except the parking lot and the gazebo, so he stalked harshly across the manicured field to the little white structure before any curious eye could find him. The back was angled enough that no one looking from the church could see him if they tried. There he stood, bent to rest his hands on his knees and keep a stranglehold on his slipping control, to do everything he could to keep his breathing even.

_I cannot- I cannot do this, Mother... I c--_

The sound of a heavy door opening echoed across the lawn. Someone shouted, “Spock? _Spock_!”

He made no move to step into view.

“Spock!”

Carol Marcus.

He stayed in the shadows until the door swung shut again, sighing roughly. Jim will come next. He will be angry, Spock thought with an unrestricted pulse of fear. He knelt into the grass, heart thumping rapidly in his side. Jim would come. Jim would realize his mistake.

Spock closed his eyes, and pictured his mother.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Jim watched the clock as each minute ticked closer to the next stage of his life. Granted, it wasn’t going to be that different; he slept with Spock, ate with him, worked with him... shared his life with him. This was just going to make it official. Signatures on paper.

There were only twenty minutes left until the ceremony. Guests had started filtering through the doors ten minutes ago, dropping gifts off at the table, signing the guest book, chatting with each other, and taking their seats. The church was huge, designed for large sermons, but still Jim was hoping everyone would fit. He didn’t actually count the number of guests-- that was the wedding planner’s job, sue him-- but it was nearing three hundred people, and that boggled Jim like nothing else. Crewmen, their “plus-ones”, the Admirals who could be bothered to show up, Jim’s family, Jim’s _extended_ family, old friends from Riverside, old friends from the Academy, Spock’s family-- _God help him_ \-- and his groomsmen/ladies.

Feeling antsy, he figured one peek wouldn’t hurt him. He was wrong.

The pews were _filled_ with people. In one look, he could recognize everyone within a ten foot radius of him, and his nerves returned full force, making his knees weak. He slunk back down the stairs to where his friends were seated.

“Gettin’ crowded?” Bones asked. Jim fixated on his friend’s slicked back hair and how different it was than usual. After a moment, he felt better.

“No shit,” he responded, slumping into his plastic chair. Sulu and Pavel had gone to mingle with the guests before it started, which Jim wasn’t sure was actually proper wedding etiquette, but couldn’t care less. Bones had gone earlier, then returned to chat with Scotty and make sure Jim didn’t throw up on himself.

Which was, in retrospect, a good idea.

“Nervous, Cap’n?” Scotty asked. Jim nodded honestly.

“Yeah, kinda. I mean, it shouldn’t be a big deal, but it really is to me. Everyone I know has basically had shit marriages, so I think I’ve got it in my head that it’s one step closer to divorce or something, but...” He rolled his eyes, “I dunno, and the more I yammer on about it, the more I’m gonna stress myself out. Shut me up, will you?”

“We’ve got cider.”

“Just don’t let me spill it on myself.” Jim opened the top on one of the extra sparkling cider bottles that the planner had insisted they wouldn’t need. It was sort of lukewarm, but the fizz still calmed Jim’s stomach.

“You know we’re really happy for you guys, right, Jim?” Bones asked contemplatively, swilling some cider in his own glass. Jim grinned in response, and took another gulp.

“I know you are, Mr. Best Man.” He paused, “And thanks. I couldn’t do this without you guys. I would have barfed and passed out ages ago.”

“It could still happ’n,” Scotty raised his glass in mock toast fashion, “T’ Jim’s nerves: may they not spoil this most illustrious day o’ days.” Jim laughed until he snorted. He and Bones raised their glasses and clinked them against Scotty’s.

“ _To Jim’s nerves_ ,” they parroted in unison. Then they drank.

The sudden frantic footsteps on the stairs nearly made Jim drop the cider bottle. A figure burst into the dressing room, all white blond hair and gold fabric.

“Jim!” Carol cried. “We can’t find Spock.”

The bottle smashed against the floor.

Jim staggered upright and backwards, heart rate both skyrocketing and flatlining in the same instant. He felt cold.

“You... you...” Words stopped making sense.

“You what?” roared Bones, slamming his own cup down hard enough to slosh the contents onto the carpet. He grew deadly quiet, “Explain what you mean, right now.” Carol didn’t look intimidated, only hurt and confused.

“He’s gone. He’s not in the church. He’s not with the guests, or in our dressing room, and he didn’t answer when I called for him-- Jim’s he’s gone, and we _don’t- know- where_.” She crossed the room, and touched his upper arms. “Help us look.”

Jim’s throat had closed long ago. He stood mute, watching the expressions play on his friends’ faces.

“Y-you.. don’t think he’s... he’s okay, right?” was the first coherent thing out of his mouth. Carol looked down.

“He was in the dressing room, all ready to go. He said he didn’t need help. The other girls and I went into the bathroom to finish getting ready, and when I came out to ask him a question, he was gone. I shouted for him outside, I asked people upstairs-- Jim, I asked his dad, even. No one’s seen him since we did.”

“You don’t think he would... y’know...” Scotty murmured, clearly not to Jim. But he heard it anyway. Something cracked.

“No,” Jim shook his head. “Nope, this is not happening. He can’t do this, today of all days. Carol, take me to the dressing room.” He flatly avoided the gazes of his friends and followed her back up the stairs, across the aisle, past three hundred fucking people, and down another flight of stairs into dressing room number two.

“Jim,” Nyota said, coming forward. For as beautiful as she looked, there was something pained and burning in her expression.

“Where’s the door?” he demanded. She took a step backwards.

“There,” she pointed. Jim didn’t say anything else, just walked to the exit and pushed it open hard enough to smash against the Church wall.

“Spock!” he shouted. The field was empty, and wind buffeted Jim, shaking the flowers and trees around him. _“Spock!”_ There were only two places he could be. Jim strode towards the parking lot. It was big and lined with cars. He easily picked out Spock’s still hovering where it was parked. Well, then. His heel dug into the soft grass as he turned and marched the opposite way. Nothing stood in the arch of the gazebo, but Spock wasn’t stupid and neither was Jim.

“Hey,” he barked, startling the figure standing in the structure’s shadow. “ _What the hell?”_

Spock was leaning heavily against the white wood of the gazebo, knees covered in grass. He stared at the ground. Jim couldn’t even see him breathing.

“No, you’re going to talk to me, now.” It was an order. “You don’t get to do this. I mean-” his voice cracked, _“now?”_ Spock shook his head mutely. Jim’s nostrils flared. “Are you going to say anything at all?”

“I... cannot.”

“You cannot _what?”_ Jim didn’t care if everyone in the church, the city of Toronto, or God could hear him. Spock looked at him from beneath his eyelashes, no trace of emotion there.

“I...” He stopped speaking. Jim blinked, realizing what was happening here and firmly refusing to believe it.

“You’re saying...”

Spock covered his own mouth with one hand and returned to gazing at the ground. Jim turned his back on the vulcan, fingernails cutting bloody crescents into his palms.

“Okay,” he said, voice thin. “Okay then.” And he walked back to the church. He didn’t know what his face looked like until he pushed the door open and saw his friends. Then he had a pretty good idea.

“Jim?” Bones asked, clearly afraid to voice what everyone wanted to know. Jim took one more step inside the room and collapsed into the nearest chair. Nobody knew what to say.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I combined two chapters for this one, because the first was waaaay too short to be anything but like an interlude... which it's not. So. Enjoy...

Spock stayed leaning against the gazebo wall for an eternity.

Perhaps it was over. Perhaps everyone had left. The thought made him want to vomit. Jim would resent him now, which meant the others would too. It was no secret whom they would always side with. He ran a rough hand through his hair, wishing he could tear it all out of his skull. Jim didn’t understand. There was no way that he could, and no way for Spock to articulate it. He waited for the others to come, knew that they would, because they were not the collective type to let one be hurt and not avenge them. So he wasn’t surprised when Nyota’s clicking heels carried her to him in a fit of fury.

“How _dare_ you?” she snapped, already near shouting.

“Nyota--”

“Oh, you’ll talk to me, but not to Jim? Explain yourself.”

“Ny--”

“Now, or God help you...” She stepped up to him so he could no more avoid her eyes than her anger. He stared at her painfully, knowing that his face could hardly look Vulcan any longer, and finding no care in it.

“I cannot marry Jim.”

“ _I know,_ you say that!” she shouted. “I’m asking why!”

“Because of my mother.”

“Your--?” she stopped short.

Spock took his opportunity. “I told you earlier that it was my mother who first explained much of Earth’s tradition to me. Nyota, this city is my mother’s birthplace. Those people in there are part of her. The fact that she can not be here today, in a city that has a reminder of her on every street corner, seems a slight to her memory more than an homage.”

“So you- you told Jim you didn’t want to marry him?”

“I cannot.” _Not here. Not now._

“Because of this stupid fucking city?” she continued, the expletive violent in her mouth. “Spock, you told Jim you wanted to be his forever, and now you’ve gone and pulled the rug out from under him. He’s crying because he’s just as afraid of losing you as you could possibly be of losing him. Now he thinks he has lost you over something he’s done, all because you don’t know how to deal with discomfort!” She spat the last word. “Leonard’s divorced, and he still wants this for you. Jim’s mom had an abusive husband, and she still wants this for you. People who should be jaded are coming together for two of the most... emotionally constipated people I’ve ever met! And you know why?”

Spock’s eyes burned.

“Because,” she continued, now more pleading than angry. “You’re in love. Maybe it’s not going to be easy, you ass, but _jesus_! You face certain death on a weekly basis; it’s in your _job_ description! Being with the one that you love can hardly be more reckless, and would be the best homage to your mother, who decided to love your dad despite everything that told her no! You can’t ruin this because of some misplaced guilt and anxiety about something that has nothing to do with you. Do you see what I’m saying?” Spock watched her make the decision before it happened. She reached out and touched his wrist with the tips of her fingers.

_ Spock spock don’t make this mistake anger judgement you’ll lose him jim pain fix this you still have time! _

Spock ran.

* * *

 

Jim heard Bones call his name again, and the sound of knocking on the door echoed against the bathroom tile. Jim didn’t even think of responding. He was sitting on the counter, hands folded in his lap, with the remnants of his heart splattered around the room in bloody fragments.

This was supposed to be their day. Their next step.

Now it was like he took a step backwards, and found that instead of ground there was just a canyon for him fall down. The damn quarry in Riverside. Maybe he was always meant to end up there.

The knock on the door grew more insistent, but Jim had entered a lock code the instant he’d gotten into the bathroom. That door wasn’t opening until he told it it could. Then another voice on the other side of the door took the pieces of his heart around the room and ground them into dust.

“Jim?”

The cuts on his palms screamed, but he continued to clench his fists.

“Please, _Ashayam,_ open this door.” Seeing red, Jim kicked the wood again, jarring it on its hinges.

A third voice snapped unexpectedly, “James Tiberius Kirk, open this door!” Jim faltered.

“Mom?”

“If you don’t open this door right now, I’m shooting it open.”

Jim debated. Spock approached the door again, clearly desperate, and it gave Jim twisted satisfaction in that moment.

“No, you-- you don’t speak.” Winona commanded. There was the sound of retreating footsteps, and Jim wished with all his heart that the door had a two way mirror.

“Mrs. Kirk--”

“This is _your_ fault. He stayed in the bathroom for three straight days once, just because he could, so I talk to Jim, and you don’t.” There was a noise of assent on the other side. Winona’s voice was closer next time she spoke.

“Jimmy, open the door.”

He scooted off the counter and crouched near the door.

“I just want this day to be over, Ma.” She was silent for a moment.

“I know you do, but I need to talk to you first. There are three hundred people wondering what the hell is going on. Even the Vulcans. If Sarek swore, he would definitely ask, _‘What the hell?’”_

Jim laughed shakily. “I can’t believe you talked to Sarek and the church didn’t burn down.”

“He’s a lot more logical than Spock.” She stage-whispered, “I think your Vulcan is broken.”

Jim hesitated for a moment, and then tapped in the keys to unlock the door. It swung outward just far enough for Winona to slip inside, and then she closed it behind her. Jim got a glimpse of his friends on the other side.

“Smaller in here than I expected,” his mother mused. “I thought you only barricaded yourself in luxury bathrooms.”

“I can make an exception on a day like this.” He said, smile growing wobbly. Winona frowned.

“Oh, honey,” she said, drawing Jim into the kind of hug that he missed for huge stretches of time. “I’m so sorry.” Her fingers carded through his hair like they used to when he was little. Somehow she even smelled the same when he pressed his nose to her shoulder.

“Mom, I don’t know what to do,” he whispered brokenly. She shushed him.

“First, I need you to do what always used to work. Cry on me until you ruin what I’m wearing, and then we’ll make a plan. Sound good?” she asked. The strange technical way she described this breakdown made Jim want to laugh, but he did was she said and let his shoulders heave until her’s was wet with tears. Then he took a deep breath, and stepped back.

“Weirdly, I feel better,” he said honestly. She patted him on the cheek, and rolled him a makeshift tissue out of toilet paper.

“It’s been awhile, I know, but I still know how to be your mother.” He nodded, and blotted his eyes with the toilet paper, before tossing it into the toilet.

“Two points,” his mother said, mimicking fanfare. Jim laughed, and hugged her again. She returned it affectionately. “Plan time?”

Jim sighed. “Okay.”

“Step one, state the problem.”

Jim bit the inside of his cheek to keep his chin from wobbling. “Spock doesn’t want to marry me.” Winona looked at him sternly.

“That’s not a fact, that’s you assuming. State the problem.” Jim bite his lip.

“Spock told me he can’t marry me.”

“Right. Step two: what are the circumstances?”

“Um, he was out behind the gazebo, hiding--”

“You assume that?”

“No, _I know it,_ because he didn’t respond when anyone called for him. He was hiding, and when I found him, I asked him why, and he told me he couldn’t marry me,” Jim finished in a rush. His mother looked suspicious.

“You calmly asked him, ‘Hey why are you hiding behind this gazebo?’”

Jim scratched his neck. “No, I was really angry.”

“So you shouted.”

“Yes.”

“And did you get an answer?”

“N-no.”

“So Spock didn’t tell you he couldn’t marry you?” she clarified, eyeing him, surprised. Jim stared back at her, something growing in his chest.

“He.. he implied... I...” He could feel his eyes widening, and his heart dragging itself back together. Winona touched his face.

“Step three is to find a solution. You need to talk to him. Calmly, and logically. You know he’ll love that.”

Jim swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. His eyes, for the first time in a while, didn’t feel like spilling over. “Thanks, Mom,” he whispered. She smiled brightly, a smile that Jim saw in the mirror sometimes.

“Are you ready?”

Jim nodded. Then he turned to the keypad, punched in the code sequence, and pushed open the door.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Actually this is another double chapter. Almost done!

Spock sat in one of the plastic white chairs, hands clenched in his lap, face stony. The others stood nearby in a circle. None of them spoke because Spock would be able to hear them instantly, but he felt their thoughts even without physical contact. Jim’s mother had gone into the bathroom several minutes prior, but the door was locked, and the sound proof systems had kicked in, muffling all noise coming out. Spock’s heart beat stiltedly in his side, as if it couldn’t decide to race or stop. Then he heard it, what he’d been waiting for and fearing. The buttons of the lock being pressed.

The door swung open and Jim marched out directly at him. Spock stood and took a step back. For half a moment, he thought Jim might strike him, but instead Jim grabbed him by the sleeve of his suit jacket and towed him towards the door. Spock had the uncomfortable feeling of not being able to predict what would happen next, so when Jim spun him around and dusted his jacket off in a random act of out-of-place politeness, Spock was more bewildered than he’d ever been.

“Jim?”

“Look, I know I didn’t hardly give you a chance to talk before,” he started immediately, cutting Spock off. “I was just so angry and scared that I had lost you over something- I don’t even know what! So I panicked and ran out here and shouted you into the ground, and for that I’m sorry.” He took a step forward and grabbed Spock’s hands. Immediately his emotions washed over Spock like heavy rain. Anger, hurt, and fear, but also joy, and love, and determination. Spock simply stared.

“I hurt you, and yet you apologize,” he murmured, trying to make sense of it. “Why?”

“Because it wasn’t just you. I mean, obviously I did something that hurt you a lot, without even realizing it. So can you tell me what it was?” Jim moved one hand to the back of Spock’s neck.

“Toronto,” was all Spock could say. And yet Jim seemed to understand instantly. It amazed him and guilted him all the same.

“Your mother,” Jim breathed. “I picked Toronto because I thought it would make you happy, not make you grieve! Why didn’t you tell me?” Their gazes met.

“I did not know how,” he confessed. Jim’s eyes were glassy again.

“Do you still want to marry me?” he asked scratchily, and then bit his lip. Spock took a moment to marvel at the human in front of him.

“More than anything, _Ashayam_ , yes.”

Jim kissed him.

* * *

 

Jim could honestly say that walking back into that dressing room was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of his life. He volunteered to go in first, because he wasn’t sure how physical everyone was going to be, and it was probably the right decision, because he was basically mauled.

“Jim!”

“What the hell, man?”

“Is this thing still on?”

He held up his arms to stem the flow of questions and pushed through everyone to the linty couch on the other side of the room. He didn’t know if Spock followed until he sat down beside him and touched his hand. Jim smiled at him, and looked at everyone else. It was funny how different their reactions were.

Bones and Carol looked furious, Nyota and Pavel looked like they’d wished upon a star and it had happened to come true, and everyone else looked ready to bolt.

“Calm down, guys,” Jim ushered them to their chairs with a wave of his hand.

“This thing is still on, right? Cause I talked to your mom for this,” Bones muttered.

“Where is my mom, anyway?” Jim asked, looking around.

“She went back upstairs to tell good news!” Pavel explained. Jim paused.

“Before we came back in?”

“ _Da_ , she knew like mothers do.” Pavel grinned, but it faltered slightly. “There is good news, right, Captain?” He looked so afraid for a moment that Jim had to laugh thickly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s okay, kid. There were misunderstandings all around. Nyota, how late for our own wedding are we?” He almost didn’t want to hear the answer.

She looked at the holoclock on the wall above them. “Half an hour, give or take.”

“Can we still respectably attend our own wedding thirty minutes late?” They were answered by a voice from the top of the stairs.

“Jimmy? Is this still happening or not, because there’s a lot of people with ruffled feathers, I don’t like a lot of them, and Sarek is asking me questions. I’m very uncomfortable.”

Jim laughed until he was wheezing in his seat. It was what Bones called his “contagious laugh”, and it seemed to be an accurate name because his friends all started to chuckle too. Jim grabbed Spock’s hand and towed him towards the stairs.

He called over his shoulder, “My groomsmen and ladies have to walk down the aisle first, so get going!” They hurried past him up the stairs. He knew that because there was an odd number, they were going to walk solo, which gave him slightly more time before he and Spock had their turn. He turned to his fiance standing one step below him and put his hands on his shoulders.

“I’m sure about this. Are you sure about this?” In answer, Spock brought their mouths together one last time.

Then Bones, being the best man and the last to walk before them, hissed down at them, “Are you kidding me? _It’s your turn!”_

They sprinted to the top of the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, yo! You rock!

Spock had never looked cuter than he did just then with a face full of cake. Even though he’d sputtered and dug it out of his eyes immediately, he didn’t hesitate at all to grab the back of Jim’s head and enthusiastically return the gesture. They stood there, covered in it, to an audience of three hundred hysterically laughing and applauding people, and Jim felt on top of the world.

Their first dance was a moment Jim would have remembered regardless of whether or not his mother had stood nearby snapping pictures and crying. The song was slow and sweet, something they’d heard once before on a distant planet, that swelled through the speakers and painted the room. A live band played, with Jim’s friend Gary singing, and they were equal parts amazingly talented, and totally hamming the upbeat ones. Jim joined his friends for a terrible group dance that had something to do with Egyptians, while Spock watched affectionately from afar with his father and sipped wine.

There were more Vulcans there than Jim had expected to see, which was awesome, because that meant he managed to rope at least one younger girl into dancing with him and his friends. He might have caused a pair of Vulcan parents joint aneurysms, but it was the most fun he’d had in ages.

The most surprising event of the night was learning that Spock could swing dance. It only lasted one song, but Jim was thoroughly twirled-out by the time it was over. He had to sit down at a nearby table to catch his breath.

“Mr. Kirk?” asked a vaguely familiar voice. He looked around, eyes landing on Sarek with surprise.

“Ambassador,” he replied, gesturing to the empty chair next to him. The older vulcan sat primly and took a sip of wine.

“I wanted to speak with you before the night was over,” he said conversationally. Jim couldn’t hide his surprise.

“I heard you spoke to my mother.”

“Indeed. I understand now that several of your character traits are inherited.”

Jim laughed, “Wow, burn. But, um, what did you want to talk about?” He tried to school his expression. Sarek contemplated for a moment.

“I merely wished to express gratitude.”

Jim blinked. “For what?”

It took another moment for the vulcan to speak. “For being patient with my son. For understanding his emotional limitations. As a Vulcan, there are many.” Jim snagged a champagne glass off a passing waiter’s tray. He turned back to Sarek.

“Sir,” he started, looking at the glass. “I have just as many. For Spock to put up with them readily and with acceptance is something that I haven’t gotten from a lot of people in my life. Honestly, I just hope you approve of our relationship, because it would mean a lot to Spock and myself.”

“Jim- if I may call you that,” he seemed to hesitate. “You should know that before my wife’s death I may not have. However, Spock has always been different. He requires emotional support that I can not provide. Your place in my son’s life is vital to his well being, you understand. I do not know how anyone could disapprove of that.”

Jim wanted to hug the stuffy Vulcan right then and there, but he didn’t want to cause a third brain aneurysm that night, so he stopped himself. Instead he drained his champagne glass, and looked around. Spock was dipping a strawberry into the chocolate fountain across the room. He stood from his chair.

“This conversation has meant a lot to me, Mr. Sarek,” he said, dipping his head respectfully.

“Sarek is fine, as you are now my... son-in-law.” The human vernacular was stiff on his tongue, and Jim laughed warmly.

“Sarek then, thank you. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go bother my husband now,” he said, unable to stop grinning. His cheeks hurt. Sarek inclined his head, and Jim hurried across the dance floor to the other side. Spock was raising another strawberry from the chocolate fountain to his mouth, when Jim swooped in and stole it off of the skewer. The sweetness exploded on his tongue. He swallowed.

“Hello, my love,” he said dramatically. Spock swiped a bit of chocolate off the corner of Jim’s mouth, and licked it off his finger. Jim’s face flushed.

“Jim,” Spock greeted, stepping closer. The dimness of the room made everything warm and fuzzy. Jim felt more wholly relieved and complete. He looped his arms around Spock’s shoulders, and smiled when Spock’s arms circled his back.

“How long do we have to stay here?” he whispered into the air between them. Spock blinked slowly and brushed his nose against Jim’s in an eskimo kiss.

“It would not be polite to leave now, since it is a party in our honor.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” Jim pecked Spock on the mouth. “I’m glad that everything is okay. Everything is okay, right?”

“Jim, your penchant for understatement has never been more apparent,” Spock murmured. Jim continued to look expectant. In return, Spock continued, “This moment, now, is perhaps one of the most perfect in my life.” Jim’s heart swelled with so much love that he was worried it would burst and ruin both of their suits.

“You should probably kiss me now,” he pointed out. Spock did kiss him chastely on the lips- not quite what Jim was hoping for- but with the promise of so many more, it didn’t bother him too much. “I want to dance with you a little more before we blow this pop stand,” he said, pulling away slowly and keeping a hold on Spock’s hands. The vulcan huffed sharply, just once, in the approximation of a laugh, which sent Jim grinning all over again.

“I love you,” he laughed, free and amazing. Spock paused, and then readjusted their hands into a full vulcan kiss.

“I love you too, Jim.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you have cavities! Thanks for reading!


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